


This Friendship Thing's Not So Easy

by rumpelsnorcack



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Mostly Gen, hints at canon relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5450153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpelsnorcack/pseuds/rumpelsnorcack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The friendships between Pedro, Beatrice and Balthazar during the five years of high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2010 - Pedro

**Author's Note:**

  * For [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/gifts).



> Rated Teen for language.  
> Many many thanks to my beta readers and support crew for all the help and encouragement while I was writing this.  
> Peter is 'Pedro' for the entire thing because it's set before and during the events of Nothing Much To Do and so he hadn't decided he wanted to be Peter again yet.  
> I tried to keep Benedick out of it as much as possible, as per the request, but given the timelines he was occasionally necessary for plot purposes.

Pedro threw himself onto his bed as soon as he got home from the beach.  Exhausted, he scrubbed his hands over his face.  It had been an odd day, but meeting Beatrice the swamp creature, and her cousin, had certainly made it worthwhile.  Pedro had always had many friends; he had an easy way of getting along with a diverse range of people which meant he was never lonely.  Even so, he was always delighted, genuinely, to meet someone new and fascinating.  And Beatrice was definitely fascinating.  Her name was a bit weird, but _she_ was fascinating. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled his thoughts back to the present as he glanced at the text.

_Oi, mutant-face, it wasn’t totally horrible meeting you today._

Pedro laughed.

 _Can’t say the same about you, shirt ruiner_ he shot back.  He waited a few seconds before adding, _kidding.  It was fun._  

Beatrice’s text came back quickly with a grumpy face.  A few seconds later another arrived.   _we’re having tea with you guys tomorrow night so I challenge you to a repeat race_

_You know I’ll win_

_In your dreams_

Pedro grinned. 

The next night saw him in his most starched shirt and best black jeans making awkward small talk with the Dukes.  Beatrice hadn’t returned from whatever alternate universe she inhabited (where mermaids were real and logs didn’t trip you up, perhaps), and while Leo and Hero seemed nice, they were struggling to find anything to say to him.

“So.”  Hero swung her arms awkwardly as she sat on the edge of her chair staring at Pedro as if he were a strange dog who had to be approached with caution.  Her nervousness was making Pedro tense up in sympathy.  “Do you have any hobbies?”

Hero’s obvious reticence was still having an impact on Pedro’s socialising skills, so he was self-conscious when he said, “Yeah, actually.  I play football.”

“Oh, that’s lovely.” Her voice became warm with enthusiasm and her face lit up.  It made her seem much more approachable and Pedro relaxed a little.  “You should play Beatrice sometime.  She loves to play, doesn’t she Leo?”

“Huh?”  Leo looked up from his laptop briefly. “Oh.  Yeah.  Yeah, she does.”

Pedro wished he could pull his phone out of his pocket and bury himself in something, anything that didn’t involve casting around for topics for small talk. He’d had it out earlier, but the stern look his mother had thrown at him made him sigh and put it away again. He was pretty sure Hero wouldn’t have minded, and Leo definitely wasn’t going to complain, but he knew his mother would never let it rest if he ignored this bonding opportunity.

“You should play a game with her sometime.  She’s really competitive and I can’t keep up.”  Hero’s voice was gentle and she smiled, taking the sting out of the implied criticism of her cousin.  Pedro smiled back.

“Yeah, sounds cool.  Maybe I will …” Pedro shrugged, voice trailing off again as he ran out of easy small talk.  He was usually fairly good at chatting with people, but tonight the situation was making him feel strained and awkward.

Hero seemed to sense that he was feeling ill at ease.  She rolled her eyes at Leo, who just grunted to let them know he was listening.  Hero turned back to Pedro.

“Do you want to make some cookies while we wait for Bea?  I always find cookies help with … well, with everything.”

Relieved, Pedro stood up.  “Yeah, that sounds great,” he said sincerely.

Forty minutes later when Beatrice walked in, they were covered in flour and laughing over the shape of the cookies Pedro had created.

“They’re … unique,” he said.  “They wanted to be different, so who was I to argue?”

“Yes, that sounds exactly right,” Hero chuckled.

“What?  Cookie making without me?  You traitor, Hero!”  Beatrice threw herself into the chair nearest the island bar and sighed, holding a dramatic hand to her brow.

“Oh don’t worry.  We saved the best bit for you –“ Hero said, giving Beatrice a careful pat on the arm.

“Yeah, the dishes,” Pedro added.  Hero aimed a gentle slap at his arm but pulled back at the last moment.  He smiled at her and relented.  “Okay, fine.  I’m kidding,” he said to Beatrice.  “We’re actually generously allowing you to taste test my masterpieces.”  He indicated the various misshapen and slightly overcooked cookies lying on the tray in front of him.

“I think I’d rather take the dishes, thanks,” Beatrice said, giving them a dubious look.

“Your loss.”  Pedro shrugged as he grabbed one and stuffed it into his mouth.  She laughed, and took one too.

“Now, what about this race rematch?”  Pedro asked when they’d both finished the cookies, which tasted surprisingly nice, given how terrible they looked.  “Winner gets as many cookies as they want?”

“You’re on.  First one round the house and back into the kitchen wins!” 

She dropped her feet to the floor and sprinted out the door.  Pedro, taken aback by the speed with which the race started, lagged behind from the start.  So, in the end, Beatrice far outstripped him in the race to get back to the cookies.

“That was totally unfair!”  Pedro panted.  “You know the way round the house _and_ you got a head start.” 

“You snooze, you lose.”  She grabbed more cookies, this time from Hero’s tray.

“Fine.  But next time we’re playing football.  I want proper rules so we know for sure who’s the winner.”

“I will take you down.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Cut it out, you two!  Not everything is a competition!”  Hero’s quiet admonition was enough to make them give each other guilty looks.

“You’re right, Hero,” Bea said, giving her a hug.  “What should we do now?”

As they settled down to watch a movie, Pedro looked around happily.  While the start with Hero had been a little awkward, he had really enjoyed getting to know her over the baking.  Beatrice was already a firm favourite.  He liked that he could joke around with her and she would give back as good as she got.  For once, he approved of his parents’ friends.

That feeling remained through the entire summer holiday.  It became routine for Pedro and Beatrice to drag Hero, and sometimes Leo, around to whatever activity they decided to do on any given day. Hero was always willing, though never as eager as the other two.  Whether it was football in the park (which Pedro managed to win more often than not, infuriating Beatrice), ice creams in the city after a long train ride, trips to various spots Pedro knew which the others had not yet discovered, or just sitting at home watching movies, they had become a team.  Pedro found it hard to remember a time when he didn’t know Beatrice and when she hadn’t been someone he considered a best friend, even though he’d known her only a few short weeks. 

So, when she left to head back to Wellington, he was left feeling bereft.  He enjoyed spending time with Hero, but something was missing and even his old friends just didn’t feel the same.  This meant that when Pedro began high school he was excited to meet some new people and find someone else he clicked with, while reminding himself that Beatrice would be back during the next holidays.

It was in this mood that Pedro found himself paired up with a small, quiet guy during their first orientation day at school.

“You need to find out three things about your partner and then introduce them to the class. Okay?”  The prefect taking this session gave them a perky grin, and Pedro snickered.  Why did every orientation day always involve the same activities?  He sighed, and decided to make the best of it.

“Sooooo …” he said, looking at the other guy quizzically.  He seemed familiar somehow, but Pedro couldn’t place him immediately. “Three things about you?”

“Um, yeah.”  He squinted at Pedro, scrunching up his nose as he did so.  “Well.  My name’s Balthazar …”

“Bro, I do know you!  That’s such a wicked name, I couldn’t forget it.  I went to your party last year, right?”

Balthazar blushed and looked down.  “Yeah.  I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Why wouldn’t I remember?  That was a good time.  We saw that weird old movie … what was it?”

“ _The Dark Crystal_ , I think.”

“Yeah, yeah.  That’s the one.  It was fun.  And you had that awesome cake – a guitar, wasn’t it?”  Balthazar nodded, a slight smile on his face.  “So,” Pedro shook himself, trying to bring the conversation back to what they were supposed to be doing.  “Three things I know about you.  First, you have the world’s best name …”

“Actually, it’s my middle name, but it’s way better than my real name.”

“Oh yeah?  What’s your real name?”

‘Nah.”  He shook his head.  “Nah, I’m not saying.”

Intrigued, Pedro thought about pushing it, but then remembered that he himself preferred his nickname.  So who was he to judge? 

“Well, I’m Pedro, anyway.  Good to meet you.  Again.”

He held out his hand and Balthazar shook it solemnly, though there was a smile lurking in his eyes.

“Good to see you again, too.”

“So, anyway … we should do this thing.  What are you into?”

“Um, music, I guess.”

“Listening to it?  Or playing it?”

“Both, really.  I’ve been playing since I was little.  I feel a bit weird without my guitar here, actually.”

“Okay, so we have two things – you have the world’s best name and you’re literally a music genius.  What else?”

Balthazar blushed, ducking his head.  “Nah, not genius.  I’m okay, I guess.  But … um.  I have three sisters and a brother.”

“Woah, big family.”

“Yeah.  It can get intense sometimes.”  He shuffled uncomfortably, and then turned the conversation to Pedro.  “What about you?  I need some stuff to say about you, too.”

‘Oh, well, that’s easy.  I’m Pedro.  I love playing football and I’m going to run this school one day.”

Balthazar gave a startled bark of laughter.  “Dream big.”

Pedro laughed too.  “Oh, I plan to.”

“Do you have any brothers and sisters?”  Balthazar asked.

“I have a half brother.”  Pedro used his most off-putting tone.  He hated thinking about John, and the mess his life was when he was around.  Thankfully, Balthazar seemed to pick up on his tension because he quickly slid onto other topics, and soon they were called back to the class to make the introductions.

While not as loud or boisterous as many of the other people Pedro generally hung out with, Balthazar was still a cool kid.  His calm demeanour was a welcome diversion from the loud, energetic discussions Pedro usually had in the classroom.  He was always pleased enough when a teacher’s seating plan placed them together, and welcomed Balthazar’s creative input whenever that seating plan involved a project.  He’d not call them best friends, by any stretch of the imagination, but Balthazar was one of the few people in the class who Pedro considered friend-ish rather than just classmates.

So, towards the end of the year, when Balthazar asked him to his birthday party, Pedro wasn’t exactly surprised.  Balthazar himself didn’t seem to have many friends.  He had one or two people he stuck with for the most part, though he was always open and friendly with everyone when they approached him.  They just seemed to leave him alone more often than not, and he seemed pretty happy with that.

“Hey, um … Pedro?”

“Yeah?”  Pedro looked up.  He and Balthazar were the only ones still in class, and he checked his watch.  “Shit.  Am I late for Science?”

Balthazar blushed, and grinned.  “Nah.  It’s lunchtime.  They changed the timetable for senior exams, remember?  You’re okay.  But, um … I was wondering if you want to come to my birthday next weekend?”

The words rushed out as if they’d been rehearsed, and Balthazar looked awkward and unsure of himself.  Pedro smiled at him encouragingly.  ‘Yeah, bro.  Sure.  Sounds good.  Who else is going?”

‘Oh.  Not … not many people.  I don’t like things too extravagant, so it’s just going to be, like, going to the movies and maybe some cake.  I dunno.”

“Yeah, it sounds like a good plan.  Do I get to hear some of this music of yours too?  Or is that still too secret?”

Balthazar blushed again.  “Maybe. Hey, I gotta go; orchestra practice … see you in Science.”

“Sure, bro.  See you later.”

In fact, Pedro really enjoyed the party, such as it was.  Last time, the whole class had been involved (and Pedro spared a moment to wonder why Balthazar had done that if he preferred things to be ‘not extravagant’).  This time, with fewer people, it was easier to get to know everyone.  Balthazar’s other friends were people Pedro hadn’t really spent much time with before, but they were good fun.  They were nearly all musicians, so there was an impromptu music session, and Pedro discovered to his delight that he enjoyed singing and wasn’t completely horrible at it.  When he left Bathazar’s house that evening he told himself he should make more of an effort to spend time with the other boy.

Pedro quickly sent Beatrice a text. 

_Made some new friends today.  You should come back here and meet them too.  Then you could be one of us cool kids_

_Dream on.  I’m already the coolest of the cool.  No-one in Auckland can compete_

Pedro smiled at the phone.  It was actually nice to have such a range of friends, he thought cheerfully.  From the people who challenged him, like Beatrice and his newest friend, Ben from England, to those who offered quiet and stability, like Balthazar, he enjoyed seeing the many different sides of life. 

_Friends are good.  They make you happy, so more friends make you more happy_

_Very deep, Pedro.  Very deep_

_I know.  One day you will bow before my greatness, in awe of my deepness_

_Can’t see it happening.  I am the queen of the world after all_

_We shall reign together_

_Yeah.  Team awesome!_

_Team Awesome!_


	2. 2011 - Bea

_Hey, mutant head, what you up to?_ Bea sent the text quickly, before she could back out and just watch something cheesy on TV.

 _Nothing.  You wanna do something_? Pedro’s text came back almost immediately.  Bea grinned at her phone.  Maybe he was as bored as she was.

_Yeah.  Maybe.  I don’t know_

_Brilliant as always my queen_

_Don’t be a dick.  Hero’s out and I’m bored_

_Meet you at the park?  Football?_

Sending a quick acceptance, and yelling out ‘I’m going to meet Pedro, back later’ over her shoulder at her parents, Bea grabbed her chucks and raced out the door.

She arrived a few minutes before Pedro, so she sat on a bench near some playground equipment and watched a pair of seagulls fight over a sandwich someone had dropped.  Their louds squawks punctuated the air as the warmth of the sun seeped into the bare skin of her legs.  Bea smiled, feeling contentment wrapping itself around her.  A ball skidded past, startling her and hitting the wooden barrier of the playground with a solid thunk. 

“Crap!” Pedro’s voice said, almost simultaneously.

Bea spun around and glared at him.  He was a few metres away, with one hand running through his mullet and a sheepish grin on his face.

“Oi! Watch what you’re doing!” she said, trying to inject anger into her voice, but aware that she was probably grinning too hard to be entirely convincing.

“I was trying to hit you,” Pedro said as he approached, “but it didn’t work.”

“Good thing you missed,” Bea said, her voice light and teasing.  “Obviously a sign that your skills have become so poor I’m bound to win.”

“Not on your life.”  Pedro bent down to retrieve the ball, but before he could touch it, Bea had jumped up and kicked it away from him.  She laughed at the offended expression on his face, and ran after the ball which was heading towards the grassy area in the middle of the park.  The seagulls, which had been chased away by the ball but had now returned to their battle, scattered again while protesting the new interruption and provided a gleeful music for her triumph.  By the time Pedro had caught up, Bea had the ball firmly under her foot.  She arched her brow at him.

“You were saying?” She teased, dribbling the ball around him and towards what she had designated as ‘her’ goal.  Pedro tackled her, and the ball went wide.  They both chased it, determined to win.

Half an hour later, they were both breathless and red faced.  Bea flopped to the ground on her back, and threw her arms wide.

“I totally won,” she crowed.

“Not even!  We both scored the same amount of goals.”

“Yes, but mine were classier, so I won.”

Pedro laughed.  “Whatever.  We both know the real truth.”

Bea lay quietly for a few moments, before rolling onto her side and giving Pedro a serious look.

“So what’s going on with you?”

Pedro huffed out a breath as he gazed at the clouds above them.  The way he avoided making any eye contact at all was so careful as to be obviously deliberate.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Is it your brother?”

“Half brother.” Pedro’s face clouded over, and Bea was reasonably sure she’d hit the source of the problem.   “And there’s absolutely nothing up with me.”

Bea sighed.  She _knew_ there was something up – probably to do with his brother – but he still denied it.  Pedro had been much quieter and more introspective during this holiday than he had the last few times they’d met.  Every time she’d tried to bring it up, however, he’d shied away from any discussion.  She knew from experience that pushing him when he was in this mood wasn’t going to work.

“Okay, then.  What’s up with that dickhead you seem to like so much?”

“Ben?”

“Benedick, yeah.”

“He’s a good guy; I don’t know why you hate him so much.”

This time it was Bea’s turn to look away.  She sucked in her cheeks before letting her breath out in a rush.

“He’s just … such a loser, y’know?  He never says anything seriously and –“ she looked at Pedro quickly before finishing.  His concern was obvious on his face and she winced as she turned away again.  ‘- and he just, he’s so fake.  He makes you think one thing when all along he doesn’t mean it.”

Pedro stared at her with his mouth open.  “He’s always seemed pretty un-fake to me.”

“Look, I don’t want to talk about him.  He’s a dick –“

“You brought it up!”

“Well, now I want to drop it,” she said. 

“Okay, fine.  Whatever.”  Pedro held his hands up to indicate surrender.  “What do you want to do now?”

Bea allowed Pedro to turn the conversation in a different direction, but she couldn’t shake the idea of Benedick out of her head.  Meeting him at the start of this summer break had been brilliant; finally she’d had someone who would fight back, and wouldn’t take her arguments as aggression.  She’d thought they were getting along great, to the point of giving him the indicative handshake of going-out, but he’d started to behave weirdly.  She groaned.  Why did boys have to be so complicated?  Why couldn’t she just fall for someone like Pedro?  Someone nice, competitive but not aggressive and someone who, above all, seemed to value her as a person?

As if on cue, he poked her in the side.

“Race you home?” He grinned at her.  “Last one back to my street has to buy the icecreams.”

Before he’d even finished speaking she was on her feet and running.  Who needed dickhead boys when there were good friends to hang around with? 

 

Beatrice never enjoyed the transition back to Wellington life.  St Miranda’s was such a strict school, and after the freedom she had enjoyed with Hero and Pedro in Auckland, she felt suffocated and repressed during the first few days back at school.  It was worse now, after such a long summer.   Besides, as well as Pedro sending gleeful texts about what he was up to, she now had Hero breathlessly relaying every moment of her first week at Messina.  Bea felt a pang of longing for her friends.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have any friends in Wellington, either.  She did.  Good friends, who she felt comfortable around and enjoyed hanging out with.  It was just … she wished her school was more liberal, and more like Messina, where it seemed like people could do, and be, whatever they liked.  Instead, she was stifled and forced into a certain set of behaviours by her school’s impossibly strict rules.

As if on cue to feed her despair, Hero skyped her for their daily chat.

“Drama is the greatest subject ever, B!  It’s even better than Foods.”

“Surely not! What could fit my perfect cousin better than cooking?”

“Haha.  My Drama teacher is amazing.  She doesn’t make us do things we’re not comfortable with, but she makes it so we’re comfortable with everything.”

Beatrice laughed, happy to see Hero so excited.

“That sounds like quite a feat.”

“You don’t understand.  We’re doing theatresports, but it’s fun.  Not like the things we did back at Intermediate.”

But Bea did understand.  She knew how great school felt with a good teacher, and she knew how difficult Hero had found last year when she’d had a teacher who made her feel quite uncomfortable.  It was nice for her to have someone who was making this year so great.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this year,” she said sincerely. 

They chatted for half an hour and Bea turned skype off, feeling a little happier.  At least things were going well with her Auckland friends.  And anyway, it was only a few weeks until she was going back to see them again.  She could cope with St Miranda’s for that long.

The weeks dragged a little at school, though Bea made the most of her time with her friends after school, and managed to get onto the football team.  She was proud of her skills, and sent gloating texts to Pedro about them.  He, in turn, reminded her that he’d made the team last year and so _clearly_ he was better.  Bea laughed it off, knowing that if there had been a team last year she would have made it.  It was nice to have someone to bounce off, though.  That Pedro cared about football as much as she did was refreshing.  Much as she loved Hero and her Wellington friends, none of them understood Bea’s passion for the sport.  In that respect, texting Pedro was a godsend.  He always understood her passion and encouraged her, having long since lost his ideas about girls and their abilities.  Bea started counting down the days before she was in Auckland again.

_Pedro! I’m here.  Come bask in my glory_

_I’d love to my queen but I’m at a party.  You should come here_

_Where’s it at?_

_Ben’s place.  Hero has the number, you should both come_

_Ugh. No.  Whyyyyyyyyy_

_Because that’s where we are_

_Fine.  We’re on our way_

Bea hunted for Pedro when she got to the party, trying hard to avoid Benedick as she did so.  He’d greeted her at the door and she’d been as civil as she could.  How she’d found his combative nature charming at first she had no idea, but now she just wanted to be as far from him as she could get.  Thankfully, Pedro was nowhere near Ben when she found him.  He was sitting with a group of friends on a couch.  She bumped Pedro’s leg with her knee.

“Budge up, mutant-head.”

Pedro laughed and complied.

“Nice to see you too.  How are you?”

“I’d be better if we weren’t in this house.”

She heard a slight laugh from beside Pedro, and leaned past him to see who it was.  She didn’t recognise the guy.

“Oh, this is Balth.  He’s in my class at school,” Pedro said.  “He’s a musician.”

The guy held his hand out.  “Balthazar actually.  Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Pedro excused himself to get them some more drinks, and Bea leaned back into the couch.

“So, how do you know Pedro?  No offense, but you seem different to his usual friends.”

Balthazar laughed, seemingly unphased by her comments.

“We’ve been in the same class since Year Seven, or the same block I should say.  There were maybe three classes and three teachers that worked together, so we didn’t really know each other very well.  But now at Messina we’re in the same form class, and teachers keep assuming we work well together so we often end up as seatmates.”

“Ah, yeah.  That’ll do it.  The old torture them into friendship trick.”

“Nah, it’s never been torture.  We get on pretty well, and he’s always good for a laugh.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about you?”

Bea allowed herself to launch into the grand description of her encounter with Pedro on the beach, complete with mermaid tails and racing downfalls.  Balthazar laughed in all the right places, making occasional comments to show he was listening, and Bea found herself glowing.

“…anyway,” she wound up, “that’s enough about me.  Pedro said you’re a musician.  You gonna play for us?”

“Nah, not tonight.  Left my guitar at home.”

“Someday, though.”

“Yeah, maybe.  If you’re lucky.”  He winked at her, then ducked his head with a blush.

Bea was fascinated.  This really wasn’t the sort of person Pedro usually befriended, but she could see why he liked him.  Though quiet and somewhat reserved, Balthazar was relaxed and easy-going, and he had a way of making you feel like you were the most interesting person around when he talked to you.  She determined to see more of him while she was in Auckland. 

To further that plan, Bea invited Pedro over the next day: “and bring that Balthazar guy; he was cool.  Maybe Claudio and them too.  No Ben-the-dick, though.”

“I still don’t know why you don’t like him,” Pedro said, but agreed to leave him out of the plans.

“Oh, and tell Balthazar he owes me some music.”

“Owes you music?”

“Yeah.  I told him the mermaid story.  That’s easily worth a song or two.”

They had an enjoyable afternoon, just hanging out and singing a variety of songs Balthazar knew how to play.  Claudio and Robbie had left early, and eventually, Pedro had to go too.  He asked Balthazar if he wanted to head off at the same time.

“Nah, I’m right.  My mum will come get me soon.  I’ll just hang here, if it’s okay with Bea.”

“It’s totally cool with Bea,” Bea said cheerfully, pushing Pedro towards the door.  “You need to go now.  We have to talk crap about you and we can’t do that while you’re here.”

She grinned as Balthazar’s laugh chirped out behind her.  Pedro looked affronted, but then he shook himself, grinned, and allowed her to playfully push him outside.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he called over his shoulder.

When he was gone, Bea settled back down beside Balthazar.  She decided to have a little fun with him – see if she could shake him out of his complacency.

“So, you’re interested in Pedro then.”  She stated it as fact, and he startled.  His eyes were wide with fear as he looked at her.  Bea felt a sudden stab of guilt.  She hadn’t thought about what impact her words might have on him.  She realised abruptly that he possibly hadn’t told anyone he maybe wasn’t straight, and that he might not want people to know.  Suddenly it didn’t feel like playful fun anymore.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out apart from a strangled squeak that sounded something like, “I um …” and his face had gone a dark shade of crimson.

“Oh.  No.  It’s fine.  Seriously.  Just, it’s kind of obvious,” she stammered out, trying to make the situation less tense.

Balthazar groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“I’ve been trying not to show it.  Do you think he knows?”  His voice was filled with anxiety and his body was taught with panic.  Bea half thought he might run out of the house.

“Pedro?  Not a chance.  He never notices these things.  And, if it helps, I don’t think it’s _that_ obvious to anyone else.”

“ _You_ could tell, though.”  He sighed.  “I’m not really ready for anyone else to know.  I just … man, how do I make sure people can’t tell?”

Bea shrugged.  “I think… maybe just treat him like everyone else.  Like, you get a bit tense when he’s near you.  Try to relax.”

Balthazar groaned again.  “Thanks Bea; that’s totally reassuring.”  The sarcasm was undeniable, and Bea grimaced.

She squeezed his shoulder, feeling that guilt again.  She could tell this had been a bad time to try to bring his crush up.  In hindsight, she realised she should have let him tell her in his own time that he wasn’t straight.  “I’m sorry I brought it up, that was shitty of me,” she said.  He nodded his head in acknowledgement but still looked uncomfortable.  Bea kicked herself again. 

“But, you know … if you want some advice, just don’t think about it too much.  Act natural.  That’s what I …” she broke off, blushing. 

Balthazar gave her a quizzical look, but when she shook her head he just smiled and pulled his guitar onto his lap.  Bea could tell it was a signal that he wanted to stop the conversation.  As she still felt guilty, she let him start playing again.  By the time his mother arrived to collect him, the conversation was a distant memory, and by the time she’d returned to Wellington, Bea had pushed the conversation so far out of her mind that she’d forgotten they’d even mentioned the topic.


	3. 2012 – Balthazar

Balthazar hadn’t been able to forget the discussion he’d had with Beatrice about Pedro.  When he’d imagined telling people he was gay, that was definitely not how he’d pictured the scenario.  For starters, no-one was supposed to know how he felt about Pedro.  It was supposed to be his hidden dark secret, protected deep in his heart from all outside knowledge.  That someone _could_ tell terrified him. 

On the other hand, he found that having someone know his secret – and not judge him for it – was pretty liberating.  Once he’d go over the panic hearing those words had induced, Balthazar had relaxed.  Someone had guessed he was gay and the world hadn’t ended.  Beatrice had just accepted that he was attracted to other boys and had only been interested in _which_ other boy it was.  Her absolute disinterest in the details of his sexuality made him more confident about allowing the idea to drop into conversations.  People started assuming he was gay without him having to make a flowery speech about it, and all the important people in his life – his family and friends – just accepted it as part of who he was.  It felt very liberating not to be hiding so much.

However, he became very careful around Pedro.  They had never hung out much outside of school, and he was careful to keep it that way.  He also stopped aiming to sit with, or near, Pedro on purpose.  It was easier in Year Eleven, now that they weren’t in classes together all the time, to keep more of a distance.  However, when Pedro sat with him he was always welcoming.  If it made Balthazar’s heart race just a little that Pedro did choose him as seatmate so often, well that was natural.  Balthazar carefully kept his feelings behind a serene poker face, allowing himself to enjoy the time together, but not ever letting on how much those moments meant to him.

“Hey, bro.  You ready for this test?”  Pedro said as he sat down at the table Balthazar had already chosen.

“Yeah, I think so.  I’m not sure I remember all the dates, but I’ll work something out.”  He shrugged.

Pedro laughed.  “Tell me about it.  I was up til like midnight last night trying to get them in my head.”

“At least this is just a practice and not worth credits,” Balthazar said with a grimace.  “I’m worried I’ll freeze when it’s for real.”

Pedro smiled at him.  “You’ll be fine.  You always get nervous before tests and you always do well.”

“Yeah, well.  This isn’t Year Ten anymore.  This is the big leagues – at least if you believe the teachers.”

Just then, their History teacher arrived.  “Paper and pen out and on your desk.  Phones off and in your bags.  Bags at the front of the room.  Remember, this is your practice for NCEA.  Treat it as such.”

Balthazar shared a look with Pedro before complying.  That wasn’t exactly reassuring.  He did notice a kid called Damian glance their way from across the room as Pedro took both their bags up to the front.  His gaze was almost wistful and Balthazar’s stomach performed a weirdly exhilarating swoop as he caught Damian’s eye.  Now wasn’t the time to explore that feeling, but it was interesting and he saved it up for later when he could think about it in more detail.

After school, he found himself walking home alone, but soon spotted a familiar figure walking ahead of him.  Damian.  He paused, puzzled.  He didn’t know Damian very well, but he was fairly certain he lived in the opposite direction.  Soon he’d caught up with him, and was about to pass the other boy with a shy smile and a duck of his head.  But Damian stopped him.

“Hey.  Balthazar, right?”

“Yeah.  And you’re Damian.  We have, like, History together.”

“And Music.”

“Oh, yeah.  I’d forgotten.”

“Just because you’re a musical genius and get private classes half the time, you forget us mortals?”

Balthazar blushed.  “Nah.  I just have a terrible memory.”

Damian laughed out loud then.  They had started walking together in the direction of Balthazar’s house.    They didn’t say much, but the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, though Balthazar still wondered what had brought Damian out this way.

Not wanting to be intrusive, but feeling curious and a little anxious, Balthazar suddenly blurted out, “Sorry to be rude, but … don’t you live on the other side of school?”

Damian gave him a long searching look, and Balthazar blushed.  He hadn’t realised exactly how much attention he must have paid to Damian to know that. 

“Yeah I do, but my nana lives over here and Mum asked me to visit her today.”

“Ah.”  Balthazar nodded.  That made sense.  He felt a slight pang of disappointment that Damian hadn’t done it because he was interested in him, but he let it go with an internal laugh.  Just because a cute boy with floppy dark hair happened to talk to him didn’t mean he was interested in guys.  Thinking that way would almost certainly lead to disappointment and heartache. 

“Hey man, this is my stop.  I’ll see you in school maybe, yeah?”  Balthazar held his breath, waiting for Damian’s answer.

“Sure, yeah.  We should talk more or something.  You seem cool.”  Was it just Balthazar, or was there a slight blush on his cheeks as he said it?

“That sounds great, man.  I’ll see you round.”

He waved Damian off with a smile, before sighing and pushing the door open.  It was weird how crushes went, he thought, admitting to himself for the first time that he did possibly have a crush on Damian.  The Pedro thing had been so intense for so long that he hadn’t really paid attention to other possibilities.  He realised, in hindsight, that Damian’s eyes and his stupid floppy hair had been causing his heart to flutter, at least a little, for several weeks now.  And it wasn’t like there was ever likely to be anything with Pedro – he was as straight as they came, after all.  Perhaps it was time to move on, stop being scared of what people might say and actually, maybe … possibly get a boyfriend.  Not necessarily Damian, of course.  He may not be into guys either.  But it couldn’t hurt to look beyond Pedro for once.

 

By the time Beatrice next returned to Auckland, for the July holidays, Balthazar and Damian had become an established couple.  It had made the situation with Pedro a lot more bearable.  While Balthazar still found him undeniably attractive, while his insides still froze up when there was unexpected touching (a given, since Pedro was such a touch-happy person), Balthazar was very happy with his boyfriend.  They had an easy friendship and were able to talk about a wide variety of things.  There was an easiness which wasn’t always there with Pedro, who was already starting to be seen as a leader in the school.  There were rumours that he would be made a prefect the following year, those early ambitions beginning to be realised. 

During that holiday, Pedro organised a get together for all his friends, ‘to get to know each other’ he’d said cheerfully.  To him, people connecting was just a matter of putting them in the same place and letting them mingle.  This was a foreign idea to Balthazar, but he agreed to go along, mostly because Pedro begged him to provide the music.

He was between sets when Beatrice found him in a corner.  Damian had left to go to some family bonding session he always did on Saturdays, and so Balthazar was at a bit of a loose end.  He could see Pedro circulating through the crowd, and smiled.  He couldn’t imagine anything worse, but Pedro looked like he was having the time of his life.

Beatrice sat down next to him and nudged his shoulder with hers.

“So, I understand you have a boyfriend.”

Balthazar grinned.  “I do, yes.  He’s … pretty cool.”

“I’m glad.  I’m glad you’re open about it, too.”

“Why does that matter?”  Balthazar asked her, his brow furrowed as he contemplated what she might mean. 

“Oh!  No.  Just – last time we talked you were all for hiding it away forever in a deep dark cave.  I’m glad you’re happy to be you.”

“I was always me,” he said carefully. 

“I know.  But you didn’t seem so happy back then.  You just don’t look so much like the world is on your shoulders anymore.”

Slightly irritated by her presumption, but not wanting to rock the boat, Balthazar Ignored her comments about his happiness.  He smiled instead, focusing on the rest of her comment.  “I should do.  NCEA is kicking my arse.”

Beatrice laughed.  “Tell me about it!  St Miranda’s is so strict about it.” She looked wistful.  “I wish I could go to Messina.  You guys seem to have the best time.”

“Yeah, yeah.  It’s pretty nice.”

“Heeeeeey guys.  How ya doing?”

“Hi Ben,” Balthazar said, smiling as he moved to make room for him.  He noticed Beatrice’s face close down as Ben sat on the couch beside him.  He raised his eyebrows at her, but she just shook her head slightly and pasted an unconvincing smile on her face.

“Hello Benedick,” she said, her voice cold.

“Yikes.  What did I do to deserve that?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.  I’m being perfectly polite.”

“Um … yeah.  I know polite and that isn’t it!”

“Whatever.”

Balthazar sat as far back in the couch as he could, while the others bickered across him.  The situation was unbearably uncomfortable, but he couldn’t figure out how to extricate himself without being rude.  He was relieved when Pedro arrived and asked him to play again.

“Yeah, man.  Sure.”  He turned to excuse himself from Beatrice and Ben, then followed Pedro away from the couch and over to the area he’d had set up for music. 

“They sure are an interesting pair,” Balthazar said as they were setting up.

“Yeah.  It’s weird.  I thought they were into each other last year, but now they just fight all the time.  It’s better that they don’t live in the same city, really.”

“Yeah.  So, what do you want me to play this time?”

“Ah, mate.  I dunno.  You choose.  You have pretty good taste.”

Balthazar could feel the heat flooding into his cheeks as he looked away.  “Okay man, I’ll do my best.”

“Thanks.”  Pedro slapped him on the shoulder in a friendly way and Balthazar sat down at the mic Pedro had acquired god knows where.  His body was aflame where Pedro had touched him and he found himself wishing Damian was still here.  It would be nice to have the support of his boyfriend right now.  He watched as Pedro started dancing with a girl called Maria, and his stomach clenched as he saw Pedro lean in to kiss her right there on the dance floor.

Balthazar sighed.  Seeing Pedro with someone else wasn't Balthazar's idea of a great time, but as he’d always known, Pedro was straight.  Besides, Balthazar had a boyfriend who was everything he’d ever wanted in a partner.  He smiled as he played and watched the pair on the dance floor.  All in all, he found himself reasonably at peace with what was happening.

Even after Beatrice went back to Wellington, and Pedro and Maria became a nauseatingly perfect couple, Balthazar found that he was happy enough.   He was in love with Damian, and felt a heady rush of excitement whenever they were together. 

While Balthazar had known he was interested in boys for a few years now (helped along by Pedro’s magnificent mullet in Year Nine), this was his first experience of everything a relationship entailed.  It was quite exhilarating, the bound of his heart when he headed towards school, knowing that he would be able to sit with Damian in class and that, despite the school’s very rigid policy on PDAs, he might be able to sneak a kiss at one of the break times.  He was, he realised, very happy, and part of that was how accepting the people around him were.  He no longer felt like he needed to hide away from other people.  He would never be the life of the party, still preferring to stay behind the scenes as much as possible, but he no longer felt that he had to play a part.  It felt so good just to be himself, and free from the stress that had plagued him when he was keeping such huge parts of himself hidden.


	4. 2013 – Beatrice

_Hey, B.  What’s up?_

Bea sent the text quickly, hoping she could convince Balthazar to hang out.  Hero was out at some school-organised camp thing for genius children, and Pedro was busy at a football practice or game or something, so Bea was bored and alone in Auckland.

_Not much._

Bea wondered if it was her imagination, or if the text was a little terse for Balthazar.

_You okay?_

_I’m fine._

Yeah, that was definitely not his usual style.  Concerned now, Bea sent an invitation.

_You wanna come over and watch something?  No pressure, just chilling_

_I don’t know._

_Oh, go on Balthy.  You know you want to_

_Okay._

When Balthazar arrived, Bea became even more concerned.  He didn’t look happy, he was quite quiet – even quieter than usual – and he barely smiled.

“Balthy …”

“What?” he looked up at her, his eyes wide and puppy-like.

“Don’t do the big doe eyes on me!  What’s wrong?  I know there’s something, so don’t even try to deny it,” she added as he opened his mouth in what was a clear attempt at deflection.

His whole body language changed and he slumped in resignation.

“Fine.  I … Damian and I broke up.”  His voice caught on the last word, and he dropped his head so she couldn’t see his face.

“Oh.  Oh, Balth.  I’m so sorry.” She pulled him into an awkward hug, which he leaned into.  “Do you want to talk about it?” she said as he clung to her neck.

“No.  Not really.” He let go and stepped back, wiping his eyes carefully.  He gave her a sad, small smile.  “But I’d love to watch some silly movie and forget it all for a while.”

Bea nodded, and led him to the couch near the Dukes’ massive TV.  They watched in companionable silence for the most part, and Bea ensured that the movie they watched had no romantic subplot at all – a surprisingly difficult task, given Hollywood’s love for shoehorning relationships into every plotline.  They ended up with an old cartoon they both remembered enjoying as little kids.

By the time he left, Balth was looking happier and he gave her a quick hug, saying ‘thanks’ as he walked out the door.  She sighed, looking after him.  _See_ , she thought.  _This is why we should never have relationships.  They just end up with good people feeling like that_.  She quickly contacted Pedro.

_Pedro, you arse!_

_What?  What did I do?  I was just playing football_

_Why didn’t you tell me about Balth and Damian before I invited him over?_

_What?  What about them?_

_You don’t know?_

_Obviously not_

_They broke up_

_What?  How?  They seemed happy last time I saw them_

_Yeah, well.  There’s definitely no happiness now_

_Shit_

_Tell me about it.  I practically had to wring my shirt out when he left here_

_Okay, game’s over now so I’ll come over_

_See you soon_

“Is he here?  How is he?”

Pedro’s voice was panicky as he pushed past Bea into the house.

“Relax.  He went home.  We watched a movie, didn’t talk about it at all, and he seemed a little happier when he left.”

“Oh.”  Pedro ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end.  Bea chuckled.

“You can tell exactly how frazzled you are by how high your hair is.”

“Excuse me, my hair never shows frazzle.”

“Well, it’s practically standing on end right now, so I guess it’s extra not showing frazzle.”

Pedro pushed her, hard.  She fell back against the wall, laughing.

“Come on, loser.  We should do something.”

“I should go check on Balth …”

“I’m pretty sure he’s okay at the moment, but if you want to –“

“I’ll send him a text,” Pedro said, pulling out his phone.  He tapped out a few brief words.

A few seconds later his phone chimed and he smiled.

“He says he’s okay, and not to worry.  He also says hi to you.”

Bea laughed. “He’s a little too nice, I think.  Hey, you think we should go round with more silly movies?  We could all hang together.”

Pedro thought for a moment before nodding.  “I think that’d be cool.”

They walked to Balthazar’s house in companionable silence.  Pedro texted him while they were on their way, asking what he’d like them to bring and pushing aside any protests he made that they really didn’t need to bother about him.  By the time they arrived, they had bags of junk food, remembering to get vegetarian-friendly dips, and a selection of old movies.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, laughing and joking.  If Balthazar occasionally slipped into a morose silence, the others ignored it and allowed him to rejoin the conversation when he felt like it.  Bea found herself really enjoying the company of the two of them.  Balthazar reminded her of Hero in a lot of ways and she fell into a similar mode of interaction with him.  He didn’t seem to mind.

When she noticed him becoming withdrawn, as if the very act of talking was becoming a burden, Bea nudged Pedro.  He looked up and she indicated with her head towards where Balthazar was fidgeting and clearly wanting to be on his own.  Pedro nodded and stood up.

“Well, bro, this was fun, but I’m thinking we need to get home.  You know how mum gets.”

Balthazar laughed and nodded.  There was gratitude in his eyes as Bea dragged Pedro out the door.  She winked at Balthazar as they headed outside, and noted how his face creased in what looked suspiciously like relief as the door slid to a close behind them.

“You know, I like him,” Bea said as she and Pedro walked towards his house.  “He’s a bit quiet but a decent enough bloke.”

“Yeah,” Pedro agreed.  “Hey, you wanna come over for food?  I feel like I haven’t seen just you properly in ages.”

“Sure.  I’ll just let the rellies know.  They get weird if I’m not home for mealtimes.”

Once the appropriate calls had been made, Bea grinned at Pedro and said, “Race you for the best seat.  Last one there is on dishes.”

She dashed off and heard his outraged laughter behind her.  Unfortunately, she was out of practice and he caught her up just before they got to his house and slipped past her with a satisfied grin.

“You’re it, Bea.  I think I’ll get John to make the messiest food he possibly can tonight – you need lots and lots of dishes to do.”

Bea poked her tongue out at him as she pushed the door open, internally reflecting that she did enjoy her times in Auckland.  She always felt more carefree and more herself when she was here.  She wondered if she could convince her parents to let her come here to study.

To that end, she began working on her parents when they got back to Wellington. 

“Hey, mum.  You know how you always say you want to go visit the rellies in America?”

Her mother gave her an amused look before putting her book down and saying, “Yes?”

“Don’t you think that it’s about time to do that?”

Bea perched herself on the edge of the footstool her mother’s feet were resting on.

“Are you suggesting that you want an extended holiday?  I’m not sure that’s a good idea – Level Two NCEA is so important.”

Bea rolled her eyes.  “I know.  And I don’t want to go.  I think you and dad should have you time, you know, without me.”

Her mother laughed, giving her a long look before answering.

“And what would you do?  Terrorise Wellington all on your own?”

“No.” Bea sat forward, trying to impress her mother with her responsibility and maturity.  “I could go stay with Hero and Leo – you know, experience a different school.”  She put her very best puppy dog eyes on, and her mother laughed again.

“Nice idea, but I don’t think so.  That’s a lot of pressure to put on their mothers.”

Beatrice pouted and sat back.  Little did she know that she had planted a seed that would take root in the next few months. 

Beatrice tried hard to do her best at St Miranda’s but she was sick of feeling so stifled.  She knew and understood that this year’s results were crucial for her future.  She knew it; she really didn’t need the teachers to push it every few minutes.

“I’m just so sick of them, you know?” she complained to Pedro during one of their skype conversations.  She was slumped sideways next to her laptop, making Pedro look a little lopsided.  By contrast, he was sitting at his desk looking far too cheerful for the topic of conversation.

“It’s no better here, Bea.  It’s like there’s nothing in their world other than having us get enough decent credits to get endorsements.”

Feeling irritated, Bea gave a disbelieving snort.

“Hah, like you have any trouble.  You get Excellences on everything.”

“Not always,” he said with a frown.  “It’s a lot harder this year.”

“You’re going to get Excellence endorsements, though.  That’s like a given.”

“Nah, not necessarily.  I need to do way more work this year, and I’m not sure it’s enough. And with being prefect there’s just not enough time …”

“You’ll be fine, Pedro.  We should call you ‘all round great guy’ – you know, because even if you need to work you always manage to be the top at _everything_.  Like, seriously, how do you do it?  It’s a bit creepy actually.  Are you an immortal supervillain?”

“Damn, you got it – I have to go into hiding now.  But not before I do my world tour.”  Pedro grinned and waved his hand as if at an admiring crowd.  He dropped his hand and added, “I should hire you as my publicist.”

“You couldn’t afford me.  But I will occasionally give you my wisdom for free; that’s how nice I am.”

Pedro laughed and they moved to other topics.  Bea remained restless, however.  No matter how much people tried to convince her that Messina was just the same as St Miranda’s, she knew there were differences.  And they were differences that spoke to her: no uniform?  God yes.  A variety of creative programmes that didn’t just include an orchestra and sports teams? Sign her up!  People who were open and didn’t judge each other on what they liked or who they were? That was the big one.  St Miranda’s was very conservative and old school (her friend Paige’s LGBTA group had been hard fought for, and still raised eyebrows among some of the alumni), and Bea just wanted to get out.  If she couldn’t go to Messina, maybe she could convince her parents to put her into another school here in Wellington.  The local school may be less prestigious, but it definitely seemed like a better fit for her, even if it did still have a uniform.

It was while she was in this mood that her father approached her sometime in October.

“Hey princess,” he said, sitting down next to Bea on her bed.

“Dad, you know I’m queen of the world.” Bea grinned at him.

“Oh, sorry, yes.”  His eyes twinkled as he gave her a deep, ironic bow.   “Well, queen – your mother and I have some news.”

“You’re making me a sister?” She clasped her hands to her face in exaggerated joy.  “That would be amazing.  I’d be the best sister ever!”

Her father laughed; this was an old joke between them

“No.  But I have the next best offer – I'm going to be away in Australia for a lot of next year on business since I've been given a promotion, and your mum is going to come with me.  We feel that taking you with us would have a bad effect on your schooling, but what you do instead is up to you, so …”

Bea felt a sudden wellspring of hope.  “So …?”

“So, we’re going to either send you to Auckland or let you stay with a friend here.  Your aunts are taking their honeymoon next year, and we’ve realised that we’ll all be away at the same time.  So, Leo could be in charge of both you and Hero.  Keep you out of trouble.  If you want to go.”

Bea waved off the idea that she needed looking after, focusing instead on the possibilities ahead of her.

“This is the best thing ever!  Definitely Messina.  Definitely!  This is even better than a new baby to corrupt.  I have to tell Pedro!  I will totally make his life a misery next year.”

She pulled her phone out, and started to scroll through her contacts.

“Hang on … you won’t be going there til March, so you’ll need to promise to work hard at St Miranda’s in the meantime.”

Bea looked up, eyes shining, her finger still poised over her contact list

“Oh, I promise,” she breathed.   “I won’t do anything to screw this up – it’s too good.”

“Well, I’m pleased to know you’ll be sorry to see us leave.”  Her father put on an exaggerated sad face and Bea laughed.  She patted his arm.

“Oh, Dad.  Of course I’ll miss you.  It’s just … I’ve wanted to go to Messina forever and now I can.  It’s …”

“We know.  I hope you enjoy yourself and keep getting good marks.”

“I will.”

Bea reached up to hug her father, thinking about how great this was going to be.  When he’d left her room, she sent Pedro a quick, ecstatic text then called Hero.


	5. 2014 part one – Pedro

Pedro slumped down in his chair, grumbling.  For some reason, Ursula was insisting that they all take part in some project she was doing on ‘the New Zealand teenager’ – he didn’t like to break it to her that they weren’t exactly representative of all teens.  Next to him, Balthazar stirred.  He’d been lost in his own world until Pedro had sat down.

“What’s up?”  Balthazar asked.

“Nah, nothing.  Just thinking about Ursula’s filming thing.  It’s after school, yeah?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You staying for it?”

“Probably.  I don’t have any music practices or anything today, so I may as well.”

“We are to be honoured with your presence!  The mighty Balthazar blesses us.” Pedro clapped one hand on Balthazar’s shoulder as he said it, and Balthazar tensed a little.  He moved away to sit back against the wall, then smiled.

“Make sure you appreciate it.  My time is precious, you know.”

“Don’t I know it.  You’re so hard to pin down these days.”

Balthazar smirked at him.  “Awww, you miss me.  That’s so sweet.”

“Shove off,” Pedro said, but he was smiling.  He always did enjoy these moments with Balth in school when there was no-one else to bother them.  History was the only class in which the two of them were the only members of their group, and it was always fun being together.

“Bea’s starting school soon, isn’t she?”  Balthazar’s voice cut into Pedro’s thoughts.  He smiled.

“Yeah.  Next week, I think.  It’s going to be cool.”

“Yeah.” 

Pedro noticed Balthazar shrugging as if he was uncomfortable, but before he could say anything the teacher called the class to order.  They became so engrossed in the lesson there was no time for further personal conversation.

Once she did start school, it was nice having Bea around all the time.  For starters, having her there meant there was a girl amongst his friends in their year group.  Pedro wasn’t sure when or why they had become friends with the Year Twelves, but he did know that when they were all together it was much nicer with the girls around.  Having Bea there meant he could have that much more often, since she was friends with all of Hero’s friends.  Pedro shared many classes with Bea, and he enjoyed her sarcastic sense of humour. 

That it also gave him many opportunities to see her bickering with Ben was less fun.  For some reason he couldn’t really put his finger on, Pedro didn’t like the vibe they gave off together.  He was slowly becoming aware, now that Bea was around all the time, that he might kind of like her in a different way to friendship.  His antagonistic split with Maria a few months back had left him wary of having another relationship, but as time had worn on he was starting to feel like he might be interested in having someone again.  And that he really wanted that someone to be Bea.

It did make things a little more awkward with her; he couldn’t just be himself with her the same way he always had.  For starters, he found himself less able to be open and free with her.  There was a new awareness which meant he started feeling stiff and awkward around her.

“Mutant head!” She hissed at him in English one day.  “Oi, we have to get into groups.”

“What?” Pedro looked up.  “Oh.  Right.”  He shuffled closer to her chair, and asked in a stage whisper, “So, what are we doing?”

“Pedro, you need to pay more attention.”  Bea smirked at him.  “We’re talking theme – you know, finding yourself, that sort of crap.”

Pedro snorted.  “Okay, let’s do this thing.”

He kicked himself – it was important that he remain alert and in control.  He had a reputation to uphold, after all.  How could he be seen as the academic high achiever, the potential student leader, if he let his standards slip?  No matter how attractive and funny Bea was, he needed to keep his focus on what he was really here for.

It didn’t help that Ben started with the whole vlogging thing soon after.  Pedro found himself even more aware of himself and his actions as so much of his life became documented on camera, mostly courtesy of Ursula and her little projects and Ben’s enthusiastic vlogs.  His announcement about running for Student Leader ended up being filmed by Bea, and he just found himself taking on even more of an authoritative persona as he tried to live up to the idea of ‘all round great guy’ which had already caught on as his tagline.  People started noticing.

“You’re different these days, Pedro,” Bea said one day as they lay in the fields during a study period they had together.  “Have your leadership aspirations gone to your head?”

“What?  No.  Don’t be daft!”  Pedro said, running his hand through his hair.  It was a tick he’d picked up recently, and he thought it made him seem more approachable.  He was busy cultivating that impression so he did it a little more consciously now.  Realising that he was doing it again – stage managing his life even when there was no camera around – Pedro grimaced and dropped the hand.

“I do have to be careful, though.  I need to be seen as trustworthy if I want the Year Thirteens to vote for me.”

“Ah, you’ll be fine.  All Round Great Guy – you can do anything you set your mind to.  Everyone loves you, and they all want to be you.”

And there it was again – that assumption that he was effortlessly perfect at everything.  Pedro winced, but pulled a smile onto his face.

“I still think you’re overselling me – but you’re a great publicist!”

“That’s me.  Always the publicist, never the leader.”  Bea snorted at the idea of leadership.  Pedro pushed her over, laughing.

“You’d be a great leader.”

“I know.  But I’m already queen of the world – Student Leader would be too much responsibility.”

Pedro chuckled and began to collect his things together as the bell rang.  He was proud of what he had achieved, but he always felt like he could do more, be more.  All Round Great Guy – it was such a huge title.  He embraced it, but at the same time he wasn’t sure he measured up.  It put a lot of pressure onto him to be the best of the best, and he wasn’t ever sure if his best was quite good enough.  Except when he was with Bea.  Her belief in him made him feel like he could go as far as he needed to.  It was one of the many reasons he liked her so much.

As the weeks passed, Pedro became more and more aware of how interested he actually was in Bea.  The result of his interest meant there was still a slight stiffness in the way he interacted with her.  She didn’t seem to pick up on it, though, for which he was thankful.  He started trying to figure out the best way to let her know how he was feeling, but he kept coming up blank.  It was in vain that he tried to remember how he got started with Maria.  That had just seemed to happen, but this was Bea – his best friend.  He couldn’t leave it to chance with her, not if he wanted to not stuff it up.

So, when she collapsed onto Hero’s bed and wished for a Prince Charming, Pedro almost didn’t take the chance.  But it was such a good opening that he did offer, hesitantly and not the way he usually talked to her.  That her response was laughter cut him to the core, but he quickly pulled on the cheerful face he’d been cultivating all year and lied through his teeth about it.

Once she’d turned off the camera, she looked at him quickly.

“I mean it, Pedro.  I just won’t post this – I’ll edit that part out.  I’ll …”

“No, I’m serious, Bea.  It’s fine.  It’s just a thing … don’t worry about it.”

“I’m so sorry I laughed. I just wasn’t expecting …”

“I know.  You don’t need to apologise.  It’s totally cool.  We’re cool.”

Bea gave him a long, searching look before she smiled at him and pushed him off the bed.

“You idiot.  Why didn’t you say something?”

“I mostly didn’t know.”  He rolled to a sitting position and crossed his legs.

“Mostly?  Oh, that’s flattering.”

“Hey, you’re the one who turned down all this,” he said, indicating his body.

She collapsed in a heap of giggles, and he grinned, feeling better.  This was okay, it would be okay.  He wouldn’t lie to himself that it didn’t hurt – a lot – to be rejected, but at least it didn’t seem to have stuffed up their friendship.

When they next met, at Balthazar’s house, he had to rethink.  The atmosphere was a little tense.  Balthazar wasn’t quite his usual calm self, though a casual observer wouldn’t know the difference.  Pedro, however, had known Balthazar too well for too long not to notice that something was off.  Bea, too, was trying too hard to be as friendly as usual, but Pedro noticed her flinch if they got too close and his heart sank.  He _had_ stuffed it up, then. 

He fought the urge to apologise again for what had happened.  Then the words his mother had said when he’d told her came back into his head: _she doesn’t have to like you back, but nor do you need to apologise for your feelings_.  It was true.  His feelings weren’t something he needed to be sorry about, he just had to learn to live with them and with the fact that she didn’t feel the same way.

“You guys want something to drink?” Balthazar said, after a long awkward pause.  “I think we have some juice in the fridge.”

“Yeah, sure.  I’ll help you, okay?”  Pedro was grateful for the excuse to get out of the room.

“I’m just going to stay here and make sure your TV doesn’t explode, Balth,” Bea called as the two boys headed out the door.  He waved his hand at her in acknowledgement.

“Hey, Balth?”  Pedro asked as they got out of earshot.

“Mmmmm?” He was rummaging in the fridge and seemed to be a bit distracted, but Pedro ploughed on anyway.

“Do you think Bea’s being a bit weird today?”

“Nah.  She’s okay.”  Balth looked up at him, his eyes wide and sincere.  “But it _would_ be a little odd, anyway, don’t you think.  After …?”

Pedro could feel the heat building in his cheeks.  “You saw that, then?”

Balthazar grimaced, turning back to the fridge.  “Yeah.  I’m really sorry, man.  It sucks.  But she’s trying to be normal.”

Pedro sighed.  “Yeah, I guess.  It just feels weird having her acting so not-Bea, you know?  I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

“Nah, mate.  It’s not ruined.  You’ll be okay.  It just might take time to get back to what it was.  But you’re good friends, it’ll work out okay.”

He looked like he was trying to convince himself of something and Pedro frowned as he watched Balthazar pour the drinks and return the juice to the fridge.  He’d been acting weird all week, Pedro realised.  He couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and didn’t feel like thinking about it too hard, so he took two of the glasses and indicated with his head that Balth should lead the way back to the lounge where Bea had put on Scott Pilgrim for them to watch.

The tension in the room subsided a little as they watched, and Bea stopped holding herself so rigidly whenever she was in close proximity to Pedro.  He smiled to himself.  It was enough.  For now. 

Once Bea left, Balthazar looked at Pedro with a smirk.

“Did you notice it too?”

“What?  The mentions of Ben every five seconds?”

“Exactly.”

“No, not at all.”

Balthazar laughed and raised an eyebrow at him.  Pedro shrugged.

“What are you proposing?”

“I don’t think she’s as unwilling to be in a relationship as she pretends.”

Pedro felt a stab of pain at the words, but he pulled a smile onto his face to try to cover it.  Balthazar, however, saw through it.

“I know, man.”  He squeezed Pedro’s shoulder, and his voice was filled with sympathy. 

Pedro was suddenly struck by the idea that Balth maybe knew what he was talking about.  He acted like he knew exactly what it was like to be in Pedro’s shoes.   Pedro was curious, and interested to know who Balth might have experienced this with.  However, he knew Balth wouldn’t tell him anything, so he shook the thought away.

Balth added, “But you have to admit it’s getting ridiculous.”

“Yeah, you’re right.  Both of them just talk about each other and how annoying they are.  It’s …” he grimaced, and Balthazar nodded understanding.  “Maybe we should do something about the two of them …”

 “Yeah, I think we need to talk about it.  Maybe get everyone together – the two of them in the same place … it’s just tiring, you know?”

“Yeah I know.  I just wish …”

Balthazar sent him a look of pure compassion, and said, “I know, man.  I know.” 

There was something really understanding in his eyes and Pedro smiled.  “Enough of that.  Let’s do something fun.  Like X-box or something.  You wanna come back to my place?”

“Sure.”

As they left, Pedro sighed again, but this one was more relieved.  He’d made it through today, Balth had lost the weird energy he’d had when Pedro and Bea first got to his house, and Pedro had been handed a plan (or an idea anyway) to get over her.  He’d be okay.


	6. 2014, part two – Bea

Fuck, fucking fuck those dickfaces.  Beatrice wasn’t in the mood to be charitable, and those assholes were … she was so mad she couldn’t even think of a word that was bad enough to call them.  How dare they ruin Hero’s party like that?  Like, what the fucking fuck?

Beatrice stopped and took a deep breath.  She knew she was being irrational, and that it would be better to be calm.  But Hero was hurting, and Meg was hurting and her friends had been screwed over by a bunch of dickfaced boys, and she was so frustrated there was nothing she could even do about it.  What infuriated her the most, she thought, was Pedro’s attitude.  He was so sure, despite everything anyone sensible said, that Hero had cheated on Claudio and he refused to listen to anything else.

Well, fuck him.

It was while she was in this mood that he had the audacity to text her.

_Hey B what’s up?_

_What’s up?  What’s up?  You, you shithead.  You’re what’s up._

_Are you still on that?_

_Still?  Like, I’m just going to forget you ruining my cousin’s life?  Fuck off and leave me alone._

_Look, I know you feel loyalty to her, but you know we saw what we saw.  You know she did it._

Bea saw red.  She threw the phone on the bed and screamed in frustration.  She could still hear him shouting ‘you’re not always right, you know’ at her as he left the party, and every single time she did, she also remembered the icy stab of disappointment that had run through her.  How long had they been friends?  How long had she thought he knew her and Hero?  But apparently it had all been a sham.  He was willing to believe John, the bastard, over his best friends.  And okay, John was his half-brother, but they’d never shown any signs of giving a shit about each other.  So why?  Why? 

All she could come up with was a sad realisation that he wasn’t the person she’d thought he was and she felt the bitter sting of pain about that.  The fact that Ben-the-dick was the one who was being most supportive and most helpful was, frankly, a bit weird.  But she appreciated it, particularly when she remembered just how much Pedro, her supposed best friend, had upset her.

Her phone buzzed again, distracting her from her morose thoughts.  She picked it up and glanced at the message.  It was the dickhead again.

_Bea, please.  I miss you._

Fuck.  She missed him too, but while he was still so self-righteous about doing the wrong thing she just couldn’t spend any time with him anymore.  Besides, the Pedro she missed wasn’t the Pedro she saw now.

_Just leave me alone._

She stared at the phone for a long time, weighing this up, before hitting send on the message.  Until he learned to apologise properly, and realised exactly what a shitty thing he’d done, she just couldn’t deal with him.

Throwing the phone behind her on the bed again, Beatrice grabbed her coat and headed out the door.  Maybe a walk would cheer her up.  It didn’t work.

Beatrice didn’t often feel cheerful for the next few weeks, not even when she was with Ben-the-dick, who had somehow become the person she relied on to get her through this time.  And when had that happened?  When did he become the one she turned to, the support?  In what universe was _he_ the good one?  She still couldn’t quite believe how much things had changed.

Through the stressful vigil for Hero (where Pedro made a significantly better stab at apologising than Claudio did, but still not nearly good enough), and the aftermath that followed, Bea sought Ben’s company.  Even so, even though she was so giddy whenever she thought about Ben and being with him, Beatrice was restless and uneasy.  She missed just hanging out with Pedro and talking to him.

Beatrice found the strained atmosphere unsettling and she wished things could just go back the way they were before, but whenever they tried it all fell into awkward silences.  She found herself sitting outside her house one day not long after the vigil, desperate to go somewhere but unsure where she wanted to go or who she wanted to be with.

Someone slid into position next to her.  She could see him out of the corner of her eye, just sitting there, allowing her to acknowledge him or not as she chose.

“Balthy.”  She turned her head slightly and smiled at him.

“Hey.”

They sat in silence for a while longer, and Beatrice found herself losing the unsettled, restless feeling.  Just having someone else there was calming.  Eventually she sighed.

“I don’t know what to do.  It’s like everything’s all shit now.”

“Surely not everything?”

There was a knowing, teasing quality in his voice that made Beatrice look at him sharply.

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said, trying to pour as much indignation into her voice as she could.  All she got in return was his disbelieving snort.

“Bea.  As a wise person once said to me – you get all tense when he’s around, so maybe just try to relax and be yourself a bit more.”

He chuckled and darted out of the way as she aimed a swipe at his head.

“Don’t quote me at me, Balthazar Jones!”

He ducked his head, laughing, then studied her face for a long moment.  She could feel herself blushing under the intense scrutiny, but she didn’t flinch from his gaze either.  Whatever he saw there must have made his mood change because his smile faded and he squeezed her arm.

“But seriously, Bea, what’s wrong?  You’re not really yourself at the moment.”

“I know.  I just … it’s weird, you know?  I’m still so mad at people but I really miss having them around.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You started hanging around with them again, though.  Why?”

He sighed.  “I missed them too much to stay angry at them.”

“And you still like Pedro.”

“And I still like Pedro,” he acknowledged with a deprecating smile. “So perhaps I’m not the most objective person in the world.”  He sat back and looked at her with a startling intensity.  “But I feel like you’re just making yourself sad by acting this way.  Like, who is this anger meant to punish?  Because it feels like it’s mostly you at the moment.”

Beatrice gave him a small smile.  “Yeah, I guess so.  I just … I’m so angry at them.  Like, even if they apologised it doesn’t actually fix anything, you know?”

“I know.  But … it could be a start, maybe?  We could start getting together more as a group again.  It could be nice.”

Bea grunted her acknowledgement, without believing a word of it.  There was no way the anger that was still inside her, and which slammed out in uncontrollable bursts when she least expected it, could just be set aside for the sake of group harmony.  Balthazar was too willing to set aside issues for the sake of peace, and Bea just found the idea too alien.  Surely it couldn’t be healthy to keep all your feelings bottled up like that?

Balthazar seemed to sense her reluctance to continue the subject, so he held up the ukulele he’d been holding.

“You want to play around with a song?  Sometimes it helps to get your feelings under control if you put them into a song and set them free.”

Bea couldn’t help but smile.  “You’d know.”

He grinned, unperturbed. “Yeah, I would.  And it works, so what do you say?”

In answer, she stood up and led him inside the house.  She may not have all the answers, and she may still be seething with anger, but she had to admit it had been nice to talk to someone who was basically outside it all.  Not Ben, who she still had weird feelings about, and definitely not Pedro, who still made her heart ache with the pain of disillusionment.  By the time they’d finished the stupid song she felt a lot calmer, and even let Hero record it on her phone.

When Ursula offered to get them all together for a picnic, Bea reluctantly went along with it.  She was still unsure if she wanted to forgive and forget.  She was having a hard time separating her feelings about what Pedro, Claudio and John had done from the people she had known and, in most cases, loved.

During the damn picnic she managed to be civil to Pedro, and even laugh and smile with him at times.  It was a strain, but she was able to set aside her own feelings for this one day, for Ursula’s sake, for Hero’s sake.  Even when John turned up and things started to feel weird again, Bea remained cheerful and had a good time with these people.  She thought, for several glorious hours, that she might be able to patch things up for good and they might be able to go back to who they were as a group.  She allowed the acknowledgement that she missed them to seep into her consciousness and thawed a little.  It was … nice.

Bea was in a reasonably positive frame of mind when Pedro sidled up to her after that embarrassing moment with Ben.  She smiled at him and patted the ground beside her.

“Hey,” he said as he sat down.

“Hey yourself.”

“Soooo … you and Ben, then?”

“Try not to be an idiot.”

“It comes pretty naturally, actually.”

She smiled a mild acknowledgement and clasped her hands around her knees.  He sat beside her for a few moments, before turning to her with an earnest look on his face.

“I just wanted to say sorry again,” he said.  “I was just so sure, you know?”  He looked at her like he expected her to validate his feelings on the matter, and she was suddenly fed up with him again.

“Yeah, well, you should be absolutely sure before you accuse people of things they didn’t do.  So I can’t find it in my heart to be sorry for you.”

His face tightened.

“I thought you’d understand.”

“Oh, I _understand_.  I just think you were totally wrong.”

“And here I thought being with Ben might have made you more chill.  Seems I was wrong.”

“Fuck you, too, Pedro.”  Her voice, she was pleased to note, had no hint of heat in it.  All the better to indicate total disdain for him.

Pedro noticed – his face drained of all colour and he took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.  “This is all really shit.”  He ran his hands through his hair again and Bea was consumed with an irrational anger at him and the posturing he’d been doing all year.

“It is, yeah.  And I can’t be bothered helping you feel better about it.  So if you don’t mind I’m just going to go find Ben.  He, at least, is a decent human being.”

She stalked off, feeling a slight twist of remorse when she saw the distraught look on Pedro’s face when she turned back to look at him.  Fuck, this was all so shit.  Why couldn’t friendship be easy, the way it was when they’d met?  Just falling over logs and joking about mermaids?  Why did things have to get so serious?

It wasn’t any better when the Donaldsons came to their house for dinner after her aunts got back from their honeymoon.  The adults were all friendly as ever, sharing ‘oh how was the trip?  Do you have pictures? Oh, lovely’ type comments, but simmering under it was the strain between the teenagers.

“Pass the salt,” Bea snapped at Pedro.  She was still fuming from his assumptions after the picnic and she couldn’t bring herself to even be civil to him.

“Beatrice!” Hero said emphatically, with a significant look at her mothers.

“Sorry.  Could you please pass the salt, Pedro?” she tried instead, her jaw tense as she plastered a fake grin on her face and made her voice as saccharinely sweet as she could.

“Certainly, Beatrice.” He passed the salt to her, making sure he didn’t touch her hand when the salt transferred.

She snarled.

They went back to silence.  Though Hero and Leo tried valiantly to keep a conversation going with the adults, it was ultimately futile.  The adults clearly realised there was something going on, and they aborted any thought of staying after dinner for a casual conversation.  Beatrice was thankful, though she wished she could get past the anger.  Balthazar was right – it was hurting her a lot and it was just so exhausting.  But the thing was, she just couldn’t see her way through it when Pedro seemed so oblivious.  Until he could admit he was wrong, Beatrice didn’t see how she could ever forgive him.


	7. November 2014 – Pedro

Pedro closed the door behind them and shut his eyes in relief as Ben and John’s voices were drowned out by the thumping music from the party.  He turned towards Balth, opening his eyes again so he could be sure to see everything he was thinking.

Balth’s eyes were clear and wide, a hint of a smile behind their guarded expression.  Pedro smiled, opening his mouth to say something, when he heard the floorboard near him creak.  He saw Balth’s eyes shutter as he spun towards the sound.

“Hey, Pedro.  Um, can we talk?"

Beatrice.  Pedro’s heart leaped when he saw she wasn’t frowning or glaring.  It had been so long since she’d looked at him with anything other than contempt that he couldn’t quite believe it was real.

“Hey, man.  Take your time,” Balth said with a gentle smile.  He squeezed Pedro’s arm and there was a knowing look in his eyes.

“Thanks, bro.”  Pedro smiled back, trying to show with his eyes that their conversation wasn’t finished.  “We’ll talk later, okay.  Later tonight?  Or maybe tomorrow?  At your gig?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”  Balth smiled again, then excused himself to Bea, and headed towards the door.

For a few moments, Pedro stood looking at Bea, a strained silence building between them.  He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Oh.  Yeah.  Maybe … outside?”

“Sure.”

Pedro tried to pull himself together as they headed to the door.  He had been expecting a meaningful conversation this evening, but not this one.  He tried to pull his thoughts back into the appropriate channel.

Bea was silent as she led him outside and around the back of the house.  Though it was a warm night, there was a slight breeze and it chilled Pedro a little after the warmth of the house, even through his jumper.  He shivered.  Despite the sudden rush of happiness he’d felt when Balthazar had turned up in Hero’s room, Pedro was back to feeling terrible.  Faced with Bea, he remembered all the reasons why he had been so down on himself earlier that evening.

Bea sat down on an ornamental bench the Dukes had installed at the end of their garden.  She was pale and distant in the dim light breaking through the clouds.

“I’m still pissed off,” she said suddenly, breaking into Pedro’s morose thoughts.

“I know,” he said.  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I heard it all before, you know.  I know you’re sorry.  But …”

“But?”

“But I’m having a hard time trusting you again.”

Pedro could feel the blood draining from his face, sure he now looked as pale as she did in the moonlight.  His hands began to shake – much as he knew he deserved this, hearing the words from her mouth was painful.  Someone he considered to be one of his best friends, even after everything that had happened, thinking that way about him was devastating.

“I don’t really blame you,” he said, trying to keep his voice even, but hearing it wobble.  “I know I screwed everything up.”

“Oh, stop being a total dick.”  Her voice was exasperated, and she sounded so much like the Bea he’d known for so many years that he closed his eyes for a moment in pained memory.

“What?”

“You’re making it all about you.  But it’s not about you – it’s about Hero.”

“How is she?”

“You saw her.  She’s fine.  No thanks to you idiots.”

Pedro swallowed, unsure of what to do or say now to ensure the fragile peace between them didn’t break.  He decided to be honest.

“I’m not sure what to do to make things right.”

Bea waited for so long before speaking that Pedro almost gave up on her.  Just as he was about to shift in his seat prior to apologising again and heading back inside, she huffed.  He turned to her quickly.  She was still staring at a nearby tree when she spoke, avoiding his gaze.

“You can’t make things right, that’s the thing.  You need to … to learn from it, put it behind you.”  Her voice took on a fierce quality.   “Then you need to never do anything like this _ever_ again, so that one day … one day maybe I can trust you again.”

There it was again, the reminder that his own actions had fucked up one of the best things in his life.  But there was hope inside her words, hope that made his heart soar a little.

“I’m so sorry, Bea.  I never meant …” Pedro sighed, a heavy weight pressing on his chest.  “But it doesn’t matter what I meant, does it?  Just what happened.”

“Now you’re getting it.”  Bea’s voice held a smile, and she bumped his shoulder with hers.  “Can I ask you something?  It’s been bugging me,” she continued.

“Sure.”

“Why did you believe John? Like, he’s never been particularly …” she waved her hand around.

“I know.  But he’s my brother.  I thought he was finally, like, seeing me as a real person, and I wanted to believe him.  Besides, he showed us ‘proof’ – we thought we saw …” He sighed again.  “It doesn’t actually matter.  I shouldn’t have backed Claudio at her party.  I should have …”

“Do not talk to me about that fuckface.  I’m so beyond angry at him.”

“You know he regrets it, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s the same thing.  I can’t believe Hero forgave him.  How she can trust him …

Forgiveness.  Trust.  There were those ideas again.  Pedro knew he deserved all this, but it didn’t make the constant reminders any easier to bear.  He looked away into the distance.

“I wish this had never happened.”  Oh, how he wished that.  If he’d only listened to Ben none of this would have happened – and in what universe was Ben the model of sense and logic?  He snorted, and Bea grinned as she looked at him.

“You’re not wrong.”

“I just … can we start again?”

“Like forget about it all?”  The cold tone of her voice said more than words could what she thought of that idea.

“No!  No.  More like … be friendish again.  Like you said, we can’t forget it.  But we could … maybe … move on? I know it can’t be how it was before, but maybe we can build something new?  I just … I miss you, and I’d like to be at least friendly again.”

Bea looked at him in an appraising way.  His heart beat in an unpleasant way as he waited for her response.  After what seemed an eternity, she spoke.

“Yeah.  Okay.” She held her hand out and he took it.

The handshake seemed to loosen something in Bea and she relaxed her whole body, losing the tension he hadn’t even realised she’d been holding.

“What were you guys talking about before I abducted you, anyway?”  Bea asked after a long, comfortable pause in the conversation.

“Oh.” Pedro ran a hand through his hair.  “Ben was trying to set me up.”

 “With a girlfriend?”  Bea asked, laughing.  “How gallant of him.  Who did he choose?”

“Yeah.  A girlfriend.  Or … or a boyfriend.”  Pedro wished Balthazar was here for this.  Having him there to tag team on this had made this discussion so much easier with Ben.

Bea sat back and took him in.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.  You’ll see in tonight’s video, if Ben ever posts it.”

“Really?”

“Really.  I … I’ve known for ages, months anyway, but it’s something I’ve only _really_ thought about telling other people about in the last few weeks.”  He blushed a little.  “I just … figured you should know.  I mean, I know things have been weird lately, but you’re still one of my best friends and it’s been weird not having you know.”

Bea smiled at him.

“Come here, mutant-head.”

She held her arms out and he hugged her.

“You know, you may be a colossal dickhead, but you’re still one of my best friends, and I’m glad you told me.”

“I am too,” he said.  “It feels good to have said it.”

“Sooooooooo …” Bea said, a cheeky grin on her face.  “You weren’t really into me that day then?”

Pedro laughed and shoved her.

“Yeah.  'Course I was.  You broke my heart.”  He mimed a stab in his chest, and she poked her tongue out at him.

“But seriously.  I still like girls.  I just … like guys too.”

“And one in particular?”

Pedro could feel his cheeks heating up again.

“Maybe.”

Bea grinned.  “Okay, I get it.  You don’t want to talk about it.”  She sighed, the sound contented.  “I’m glad we talked.  I feel more peaceful now.”

“Yeah.”  Pedro looked at her.  He knew he wasn’t out of the woods with her yet, but it had been a productive discussion and he knew they were at least at peace with each other now.  The rest could come in time.

Eventually they headed back to the house together, and he felt much more relaxed when they joined a large group of their friends in the lounge.  He’d been right, he realised as he looked around at these people he loved.  This whole business wasn’t something that could be fixed with an apology party.  But even so, they’d made a pretty good start, and he was fairly sure things would turn out okay, eventually.


End file.
